


Take This Time

by QueenOfCarrotFlowers



Series: Carrot's Romance Fics [13]
Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Farm/Ranch, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Animal Death, Boss/Employee Relationship, F/M, Falling In Love, Grief/Mourning, Mentions of Death, Poe was her husband, Recreational Drug Use, Reversed Ages, Rey is a widow, Rey is ten years older than Ben, Sheep, Teacher-Student Relationship, based on a Garth Brooks song, mentions of Luke - Freeform, past Poe Dameron / Rey, sheep farming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-25
Updated: 2019-08-25
Packaged: 2020-09-25 02:41:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20369302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenOfCarrotFlowers/pseuds/QueenOfCarrotFlowers
Summary: Rey works on a farm on the desolate island of Ahch-To, off the Eastern Shore of Virginia. There she spends her days managing a herd of Ahch-To native sheep and her nights mourning her late husband. After two years alone, Rey agrees to take on her former professor's nephew as her new intern. He is nothing like what she expected, and they both get a lot more than they bargained for.A oneshot based on the Garth Brooks song "That Summer"





	Take This Time

**Author's Note:**

  * For [VeriLee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/VeriLee/gifts).

> This story is for VeriLee! Her prompt: "The Garth Brooks song "That Summer," with an older, experienced Rey and younger, virgin Ben working at her farm, ranch etc for the summer and they fall in love. Can have an HEA or be bittersweet."
> 
> Now, based on the song this could have been a short and sweet PWP, but is that what I wrote? No, it is not. I got caught up in Rey's backstory, and Ben's a bit too, and I got carried away by the location I chose, and ended up writing what I hope is a sweet but angsty story about mourning and learning to love again with a lot of details about sheep farming (which, you should know, I know nothing about, although I had some helpful advice from mister flypaper_brain, who grew up on a sheep farm). It also takes place January through May, to correspond to the usual lambing and shearing seasons, rather than over the summer.
> 
> The story is set on a fictional barrier island off the Eastern Shore of Virginia, it's called Ahch-To but it's based on Hog Island. There are a ton of notes at the end about Hog Island and its sheep, but for reference here is a photo of Hog Island and you can imagine that this house and the dock are the ones mentioned in the story. This is what our Ahch-To looks like here.
> 
> Some warnings are probably in order. In this story Rey is ten years or so older than Ben (he's in his third year of college, 20-21 years old, she is 31 or 32). She is also technically his employer and since he is an intern at her farm I think she also counts as an instructor. So this has both student/teacher and employee/employer vibes, although I don't think Rey ever uses her position to her advantage, and they talk about it a bit (although they don't let it stop them). 
> 
> Also, as in the song it's based on, Rey is a widow. She was married to Poe for many years, and she loved him very much. She thinks about him throughout the story and also talks about him. There is discussion of mourning and his death (which was accidental) is described in some detail. If you are sensitive to death or mentions of death or discussions of mourning you may not wish to read this story. Likewise if you dislike Poe or DameRey or you believe that Rey and Ben can only ever love each other you may also wish to skip it.
> 
> There is a brief mention of animal death.
> 
> If I have missed any warnings or need to add tags please let me know, I am more than happy to do that.
> 
> There are historical notes at the end, if you're interested in learning more about the place and animals depicted in this story.
> 
> Many thanks to flypaper_brain, whose guidance and support and excellent beta work made this story so much better than it would have been without her (and also thanks to mister flypaper_brain, for being excited about sheep and for being so good to my friend)
> 
> The title, Take This Time, comes not from the lyrics of "That Summer" but from [Mirrorbright](https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Mirrorbright_\(song\)), a canonverse lullaby from Alderaan that prominently features in a pivotal scene. 
> 
> VeriLee, I'm very sure this wasn't what you were expecting but I hope you like it. Thank you so much for the prompt, which gave me the opportunity to write something I never would have written otherwise. Happy Plaid Paramour!
> 
> Update 8/26: I have received some additional feedback from mister flypaper_brain and from Lorel, so I have made a few minor changes regarding sheep and lamb care based on their suggestions.

Rey is sure that she looks ridiculous.

She’s wearing a dress she hasn’t worn in years. Two years, almost two years exactly; she and her husband Poe had gone out for a nice dinner on the mainland just a few months Before. 

They’d eaten at the nicest restaurant in Nassawadox (the Great Machipongo Clam Shack might not look like much, but the food is excellent; and besides, it was the idea that counted), and then they’d gone square dancing at City Hall with their best friends, Finn and Rose. After a few hours of laughing and dancing to a local bluegrass group they said goodnight to their friends and drove down to the shore. They made out like kids in the bed of the truck, eventually curling up under one of the blankets Poe kept there, falling asleep to the sound of the surf rolling up the beach. They’d been woken up by the gruff Sheriff Canady just in time to watch the sunrise over the bay. It had been a perfect night.

She hasn’t been out since he died, has barely left the island, relying on Finn and Rose to bring in weekly deliveries from the mainland.

She’s been alone for most of that time, too. Occasionally her friends would come to the island for dinner and stay the night; they’d all get up early and walk to the eastern side of the island to watch the sunrise over the ocean. Professor Skywalker (Luke; even ten years after graduating it’s still strange to think of him as ‘just Luke’) would stop by every few months with a joint and some whiskey and the promise of No Conversation, Just Company, which Rey appreciates more than she could ever tell him, so she doesn’t.

It was Luke who suggested that his nephew sign on as her intern for the spring semester this year. It would overlap with some of the hardest work, the lambing in February and March and the shearing in May, and he could help with whatever else might need doing during that busy time on the farm. Ben Solo was the son of Luke’s sister, Leia Organa. Rey knew her slightly, had met her when she was a student on campus; Ben would have been in elementary or middle school at the time, and she couldn’t remember ever having met him. Like her brother, Dr Organa was also a professor at Virginia Tech, but in Political Science instead of Agriculture. Their whole family was from that area, going back generations, with a long history of farming; it made sense that Ben would go to Tech, too.

Luke had told Rey about Ben last summer during one of his rare not-silent visits. His nephew was particularly interested in heritage breeds and historical practices. He’d volunteered with the Livestock Conservancy, which technically co-owned both the island and the farm, and when he’d expressed an interest in doing a full-semester internship, the small farm out on Ahch-To with its focus on restoring the island’s endangered native breed had immediately come to Luke’s mind as the perfect opportunity for him.

Hosting interns was technically part of the agreement between the co-owners of the farm and the university, although they’d been kind to Rey after Poe’s death and had sent a seasoned worker from Tech’s own barns instead of the usual, often inexperienced, students to help keep things going that first year. Her name had been Phasma and she spoke very little and spent her evenings in town, which was just fine with Rey. When Poe had run the farm they’d regularly hosted interns; that’s how Rey and Poe had met, almost ten years before. Rey’d come to the island for her own junior year internship and had simply never left; Luke had been very helpful in ensuring that she could graduate on time, and she took on the official position of assistant manager of the farm. The island was magical and Poe had been magical; and now he was gone and it was her responsibility to keep the island running. She could do it by herself, but just barely, and another pair of hands would be of enormous help, so of course Rey agreed.

Ben being Luke’s nephew had led Rey to assume that he’d be like Luke - not very tall, blonde, stocky, quick to smile but quiet, maybe a bit intense. Carrying these expectations, she was shocked the afternoon in early January when his boat had pulled into the dock. It was cold, not quite freezing, but there was mist rising from the water of the bay and she was wearing a scarf around her neck in addition to her heaviest coat. Luke was there, looking exactly like himself, grey and bearded in a worn Carhartt, but the person accompanying him looked nothing like him. This young man had dark hair peeking out from under a black watch cap; his hair was thick and wavy and touched his broad shoulders, shoulders that matched the rest of his body. He was tall - several inches taller than Luke - and his nose and mouth were large. The word “generous_”_ occurred to Rey as Luke introduced them and Ben’s lips moved as he said ‘hello’, and she immediately felt like a pervert because she was his boss and he was just a kid - maybe twenty years old, at least ten years younger than her - and she was in a position of authority and what was she even _thinking_, she was still mourning her late husband. Being attracted to another man felt like cheating. So she pushed the feeling away, as far back as it would go, and introduced herself. She shook his hand - it had enveloped hers and she’d had to lift her chin high to look him in the face - and said “hello, good to meet you”, and then they’d all gone back to the barn so she could show him around.

As they walked around the farm - the barns, and the enclosure, and the open spaces beyond - Rey had given her usual pitch about the history of Ahch-To; how the residents all left in the 1940s, leaving only the native sheep and shorebirds; how it was abandoned until the 1970s when the Nature Conservancy purchased the island when the sheep, left to roam, were endangering the survival of the birds. That group had partnered with Virginia Tech and the Livestock Conservancy to set up a farm - owned jointly by the conservancies and staffed by the university - to maintain the sheep herd and keep both sheep and people away from the birds.

Ben watched Rey as she spoke, as she walked slowly ahead of him and pointed around, and his eyes were dark and serious and perhaps the most beautiful eyes she’d ever seen in her life. He made her feel off-kilter, like there wasn’t enough oxygen in her head, or blood in her body. She couldn’t recall ever feeling like that before and she had no idea what it might mean. It was decidedly uncomfortable but also _good_, and later that evening, after Ben had begged off and gone to bed early and she was sitting out on the porch with Luke, sharing a joint between them, she knew that she wanted to feel that way again.

That was back in January and now it’s May and Rey still feels like that every day, every time Ben looks at her, and now that she’s had time to figure out exactly what it is she’s feeling, she knows that she shouldn’t feel that way. It’s improper and unprofessional and she’d never even felt that way about her late husband; there are so many reasons it’s a bad thing. Normally, he would be gone in a few weeks anyway, back to the interior mountains of the commonwealth at the end of the semester and far away from the desolate island and Rey and the sheep, and all she would have to do is wait it out. The problem is that Ben is, without a doubt, the best intern they’ve ever had on the farm; he’s certainly far beyond where she was at his age. And because of this - his experience, his dedication, his love for the sheep - she wants to ask him to stay on as assistant manager. But her personal feelings have complicated things, so she’s been hesitant to mention the position to him as a possibility.

Rey is thinking about Ben as she stands in the front hall waiting for the text from Finn to let her know he and Rose are there with her date, and she's desperately trying to ignore Ben puttering around the kitchen behind her. She can hear his footsteps, the opening and closing of the fridge, the tap of the knife against the lip of a glass jar - Grey Poupon mustard, his favorite, she can almost smell its spicy tang, along with the fresh scent of his shower gel and wet hair. She’d like to go into the kitchen to talk to him, ask him what he liked most about the day, what he plans to do with his evening alone. But talking isn’t really something they do. For all the time they spend together and the amount of communicating they do, aside from a few notable occasions very little of it is vocal. Sometimes she wonders if they can read each other’s minds.

Rey can’t decide if the lack of conversation helps with her crush on Ben or not. Sometimes he looks at her, and she thinks that he’s ready to say something to her. He wants to talk, but she’s afraid of what he might say, so instead of talking to him first she stays silent. There’s something about him, an intensity, that frightens Rey even as she’s willing to admit that she finds it attractive. He normally speaks very rarely, and only ever about practicalities - _please pass the milk_, or _do you need me to grab that for you?_ Or _have you seen Ember_? Ember was the runt of this year’s lambs, who only survived after being brought into the house and nursed around-the-clock for weeks; and who now usually followed either or both of them around like a puppy. The night of Ember’s birth, three months earlier, back in February, had been the first time they’d spoken freely and at length to each other, and although the night had been harrowing, Rey remembered every moment with clarity and affection.

* * *

Ben sat on the floor of the barn, the layer of straw prickly in his backside, and tried not to cry as he held the newborn lamb. The lamb smelled good, organic and chemical, a combination of the amniotic fluid still drying on its wool and the iodine they'd dipped his umbilical stump into in order to prevent infection. The barn was chilly, even with the heaters and the warmth coming from the animals around them, and Ben shivered slightly as he waited, as patiently as he could, for Rey to bring the colostrum that would serve as the lamb's first meal outside of his mother. The lamb was small - maybe too small - and his mother had refused to let him nurse alongside his healthy, and much larger, sister. Rey had seemed annoyed at the situation, but when Ben had made a noise and reached for the tiny animal she’d taken one look at his face and sent him to the corner with the lamb. She’d grabbed a clean pyrex measuring cup and the mama sheep’s second teat and was hard at work drawing out the early milk that the baby would need if he was to have any chance of survival.

Ben watched Rey milk the ewe on the other side of the pen, and listened to the sounds of the sheep in the barn around them, felt the quick breaths of the tiny sheep in his arms, and after a moment he realized that he was rocking back and forth, and also singing.

_Mirrorbright, shines the moon, its glow as soft as an ember_

He was singing the lullaby his mother used to sing to him when he was very small, and he immediately felt comforted.

_When the moon is mirrorbright, take this time to remember_

Rey left the pen and carried the cup of milky colostrum to the counter under the bright lights on the other side of the building; Ben could no longer see her, but he could hear her movements, the opening and closing of wooden cabinets and the familiar _shhh_ of a refrigerator being opened and closed.

_Those you have loved but are gone _  
_Those who kept you so safe and warm_

A minute later Rey was back in the pen, the pyrex cup and a pipette in one hand and a soft lambing blanket in her other. Ben held up the lamb as she set the blanket in his lap, and they both laughed when a stream of hot liquid dribbled from the lamb’s backside straight down onto the nice fresh blanket, and Ben’s lap beneath.

“Oh, my god, Ben, I’m so sorry,” Rey stammered, her cheeks ablaze as she tugged the wet blanket away, “I’ll go get you another one.”

He nodded, not quite ready to trust his voice to speak lest the tears fall, although he opened his hand and gestured to the cup, and she handed it to him before she took the soiled blanket and left the pen again. He shifted the lamb into the crook of his right arm, so he could hold the handle of the cup in his right hand and maneuver the pipette with his left one.

_The mirrorbright moon lets you see _  
_Those who have ceased to be_

“What’s that you’re singing?” Rey asked, tucking another blanket between the lamb and Ben’s lap and settling down next to him - a few inches too far away for his liking, but close enough, so he wasn’t going to complain.

“It’s, uh, a lullaby my mom used to sing to me, when I was a baby,” he replied quietly as he dripped slow drops of the yellowish liquid into the lamb's waiting mouth, and he could feel himself blushing as he continued the soft rocking motion back and forth. “It’s called ‘Mirrorbright’.”

She hummed and leaned back against the wall, closing her eyes. “I like it,” she murmured. “Sing it again, please?”

Ben could never say no to her, so he started again from the beginning.

_Mirrorbright, shines the moon, its glow as soft as an ember_  
_When the moon is mirrorbright, take this time to remember_  
_Those you have loved but are gone_  
_Those who kept you so safe and warm_  
_The mirrorbright moon lets you see_  
_Those who have ceased to be_  
_Mirrorbright shines the moon, as fires die to their embers_  
_Those you loved are with you still—_  
_The moon will help you remember_

Ben watched her face as he sang, and by the end there were tears slipping from underneath her eyelids. When he finished he looked quickly back at the lamb - done with its meal, it was now sleeping peacefully - and he pretended not to notice as he heard Rey snuffle and wipe the tears off her face. They were silent for a few minutes until Rey’s voice, quiet and sweet, broke the calm.

“Why are you here, Ben? I mean, I know you’re interested in the sheep, and breeding, in the heritage and craft of farming, but why _here_? There’s nothing here but sand and sheep and birds. It’s not fun. And you haven’t been to the mainland since you arrived.” She looked up at him, curiosity plain on her face, and maybe something else. “And that lamb,” she nodded at the bundle in his arms, still being rocked, “that’s a dead lamb, good as dead, and yet you insist on feeding it, and rocking it.” She shook her head, and she was almost talking to herself. “So much time wasted on a dead lamb, but when you looked at it… I couldn’t say no.” She shook her head, seeming to come back to herself. “So, right. Why are you here?”

Ben looked into her eyes, brown and green and ringed with gold, and he shivered, because he knew he would tell the truth to her. He turned his eyes back to the animal in his arms, and focused on its little black face, the steady movement of its white body as it breathed slowly in and out.

“I was angry a lot, when I was a kid.” He knew he was speaking very quietly and he paused for a moment for some indication that she could actually hear him. She hummed, and scooted a bit closer - not quite close enough to touch - and then she waited. “My, uh, parents didn’t pay as much attention to me as I wanted them to, mom worked all the time and dad was away a lot. They ignored me most of the time, but when I was bad they might yell at me, which was at least something. You know?”

He ventured a glance at her. Her eyes were on the lamb, but she was nodding.

“The only time I wasn’t really angry was when I was on my grandparents’ farm. They're out in Floyd, you know, and during the lambing season I would spend weekends and help with the babies.” He pulled the one in his arms closer to his chest, and Rey reached up a hand to stroke one of the tiny black hooves with the tip of her finger. Ben watched her do it; her hands were rough from years of hard work but were still so very gentle.

“I know the farm,” Rey whispered as she stroked her finger up and down the lamb’s leg, “Luke took us there for field trips a couple of times. They raise Shetlands, right?”

He cleared his throat. “Uh, yeah. Shetlands. Anyway, by the time I was fifteen I had made this group of friends, they were into drugs and stuff, shoplifting. Uh.” Only then did it occur to Ben that he was talking not to a friend but to his boss, and she would be judging him, and that this story gave her a lot to judge him for. But it was too late to stop now and anyway he didn’t want to stop - he wanted her to know this, even if she would hate him for it.

“For a while my grandparents hosted some Santa Cruz sheep, just a few ewes and a ram, and one of the ewes had a difficult birth with a runt like this one, and Luke and my grandpa decided that I was ready to do an overnight. They had heaters, all I had to do was feed it every two hours. That’s all. Put the lamb in front of the heater, feed every two hours.”

Ben had to stop, because his throat was getting thick and he could feel the tears forming in his eyes and he knew they would come and that he’d be crying in front of his boss soon. He wanted to put it off as long as possible but he couldn’t put it off forever, and eventually he had to keep going. Rey’s presence was soothing, though. He was going to confess something to her that could make her hate him forever, but he was surprised to realize that he _wanted_ her to know this, to know him, and he liked that she was so close to him. None of it kept the tears from escaping, but it helped.

“It was late and I was so bored. There’s no cell service out there and nothing to read in the barn except manuals, and I knew that Uncle Luke had a stash hidden in one of the cabinets, so I went looking and I found it and then I got the bright idea to smoke some of it - not a lot, just a little, you know, only a couple of hits - so I rolled a joint and took it outside and smoked it. And then I guess I came back in and lied down on the cot thinking I’d just take a little nap, but the next thing I knew it was morning and I’d missed three feedings and…”

Ben was weeping so hard he had to stop, interrupted by hiccups and his own guilty conscience. He did his best to wipe his cheeks against his shoulders, not wanting to release either arm from around the soft bundle of lamb.

“Oh, Ben,” Rey’s voice was a sigh, and her hand was rubbing his back and her head was resting against his shoulder.

“It didn’t do anything but be born. I could have helped save it but I didn’t because I was stupid. My grandpa was so disappointed, and Luke and my parents too. Luke got yelled at for keeping his weed in the barn but still, it was my fault for smoking it. They didn’t trust me with anything like that again.”

The tears were still coming, and this time Rey wiped off his face, gripping the cuff of her flannel and dabbing it across his cheeks. Ben was shocked into silence; she murmured as she wiped his damp face, her face so close that he could count the freckles that danced across her nose.

“I don’t blame them,” she said, when she was done cleaning him up to her satisfaction. “I wouldn’t have trusted you either after that.”

“Do you trust me now?”

She blew air out of her nose, a facsimile of a laugh. “Look at you, Ben, with this runty lamb. You’re clearly sorry about what happened and you’re clearly trying to do right now. So yes, of course I trust you. That said, I’m not going to leave you alone all night in the barn. That was their mistake - they never should have left you alone like that, fifteen years old.” She shook her head and sighed, and a weight lifted from his heart. He’d never thought of it that way, and it made him feel better that she did.

One more pat on his back and she was up.

“I’ll go get us a couple of Cokes, okay? Help keep us awake, we have a long night ahead of us. And when I come back I want you to teach me that lullaby. Okay?”

“Yeah, okay,” Ben replied as he hugged the lamb closer, and it bleated quietly in its sleep.

* * *

It was hours later; they had fed the lamb - whom they agreed to call “Ember,” if it survived - twice more, and Ben had sung the lullaby so many times Rey felt as though it was inscribed on her bones. The dawn had just begun to break through the high windows near the barn’s roof, softly illuminating the gathered animals, and the two humans among them.

"Hey, Rey?" Ben's deep, quiet voice broke the soft silence.

"Hm?"

"Shouldn't we tag him?"

She thought for a moment, as she let her fingertip rub against the animal's forehead.

"I'd like to wait a month," she replied slowly, "just to make sure."

She could tell that Ben didn't particularly like that answer; the scabies tag represented permanence, and identity, both of which he clearly wanted this lamb to have, but he didn't argue.

She was quiet for a few minutes, and then she spoke again.

“Can I tell you something, Ben? Since we’re making late-night confessions?”

“More like early morning, but sure.”

Rey chuckled at Ben’s joke. He was funny, she’d learned during this long night. Funny and intelligent and his heart was so very soft; he’d only let go of the lamb once, when he asked her if she could hold it for a minute before he’d gone outside, his cheeks red with embarrassment. When he’d come back he was able to sit more still than he had been for the last several minutes before he’d gone out.

“I really like that lullaby. It, um…” She paused, wondering if this was really something she wanted to tell him. But he had told her his secret, his reason for being here, and she thought that maybe it was fair to tell him her secret, too. Ben said nothing, just waited, rocking gently back and forth with the sleeping lamb still heavy in his arms. It had peed on him again, a few times, over the course of the night, both of them stank - of lanolin, manure, amniotic fluid, iodine and their own sweat - and were damp and gross, and she was tired, so very tired; but it was a good kind of feeling, too.

“It makes me think of my husband. Late husband. Poe, you know.”

Saying his name felt like dropping a rock down a very deep hole, so deep you couldn’t hear it hit the bottom, if it ever hit the bottom at all. Ben’s voice came up instead.

“I’m sorry, for, uh, your loss,” Ben whispered.

“Thank you.”

“I met him, a couple of times. He gave a guest lecture in Intro to Animal Science my first year.”

“I remember that,” Rey said. “He used to visit campus a few times a year for lectures and things as part of the program.”

“You’ve never come,” Ben said, looking down at her. “Why don’t you ever come?”

It was difficult to meet his eyes, but she did her best, focusing on his chin. “I don’t like to leave the island,” she answered, her voice shaking. “I can hardly bear it.”

Rey ventured a glance up to Ben’s eyes, deep pools of emotion fixed on her face; Rey was very sure he could see into her soul, and she couldn’t decide if she liked it or not - but she wanted it.

“I could understand not wanting to leave here,” he replied, his fathomless eyes flicking from her eyes to other parts of her face and then back to her eyes again. “It’s very beautiful.”

Rey had to look away; she returned her attention to the lamb - Ember, she supposed - and caressed its tiny hoof.

“My husband died here, and it’s just very hard to leave. I feel like he’s still here, his spirit.”

“Like he’s a ghost or something?” Ben’s voice was skeptical, and Rey shook her head.

“Not like his ghost, but like… he lived here a long time, his fingerprints are everywhere. Repairs to the house and the barn, so many memories… I like being here because it reminds me of him.”

“Do you want to talk about him?”

Rey thought about it for a moment. She never talked about Poe; Rose and Finn and Luke had all known him, and she’d talked about him to them a lot after he’d died, but it eventually reached a point where she felt like she was boring them, as though they expected her to move on but she wanted to stay where she was; she stopped talking about him in an effort to keep the peace. So yes, she did want to talk about him. But talking about him with Ben gave her pause. Because she liked Ben; despite their official relationship and their age difference, she liked him and was attracted to him, which complicated things immensely - but he was kind and he’d asked, after all, and he sounded genuinely interested. And there was something about the barn that made everything feel otherworldly, as though the conversation was happening in some other place at some other time; or perhaps entirely outside of time. The conversation could happen, and then it would be as though it never had.

“Yes, I would like to talk about him, if you don’t mind.”

Ben frowned, and shook his head as he shifted to put his legs out in front of him. He groaned as he leaned back against the wall. “I don’t mind at all.”

So Rey told him about Poe. She told him about his smile, how he loved to go birdwatching in the salt marsh early in the morning, and how the sheep trusted him, would follow him around the fields and all the way to the shore, into the forest. She’d called him the ‘Pied Piper of Ahch-To’ and he’d claimed he was even better than that, because he didn’t even need a pipe. She told Ben how they’d met, when she was serving her own internship, almost ten years before; how they’d been married over the salt marshes on the western shore as the sun dipped behind the mainland. And finally she told him how he’d died.

“There was a lamb - a bit like this one, maybe more healthy - and he’d become very attached to it. It wandered off and he went looking for it, but it was late and I went to bed while he was out.” Rey rubbed a knuckle against the forehead of the lamb and it bleated softly and pushed against her. “When I woke up the sun was just rising and he wasn’t in bed. So I went out looking for him and I found him, and the lamb, too. The lamb was fine, although it was upset; it wouldn’t leave him, was just sitting next to him in the sand and bleating and bleating.”

“What happened, Rey? Uh…” Ben paused, as though realizing he may have made a serious faux pas. “If you want to tell me, I mean.”

“The coroner said he tripped and hit his head on a log, which knocked him out. That would have been fine, except it had rained the day before and there was a puddle. He drowned in three inches of water.”

Saying it, Rey felt strangely empty, as though she was reciting someone else’s story. Having Ben there helped her feel grounded; the lamb helped, too.

“God, Rey, I’m so sorry. We knew, uh, that he’d drowned, but they never told us the details. I’m so sorry.”

Rey couldn’t look at him. She shrugged. “I don’t remember very much after that. Apparently I carried the lamb back to the flock and called Finn. I was so hysterical he couldn’t understand what I was saying at first. I had to be sedated on the ambulance boat, and then I was in the hospital for a few days. I do remember Poe's father visiting me, and Finn and Rose, just bits and pieces. They stayed here with me for a while, after I got out of the hospital. And then I remember waking up alone in bed, only that was weeks later and Poe had already been buried. I don’t even remember his funeral.”

Ben was quiet, but he moved his arms and by the time Rey realized that he was shifting the lamb into the crook of one arm his other arm was already around her, enveloping her shoulders and pulling her against his side.

“I’m so sorry, Rey,” he murmured, and it was then that she saw the tears on his cheeks, and felt her own. She wiped her sleeve against her own face and then did the same with his, gently dabbing away his tears.

“Things happen,” she replied, pressing herself briefly against him before pulling away. “Anyway, it’s been a long night and it looks like this one has made it through the worst. Let me take him for now; you go take a shower and get some food and some sleep, I’ll wake you up in a few hours.”

“What about you?” he asked, handing the lamb over to her and standing up, shaking out his limbs and tossing straw everywhere in the process.

“I’ll take a nap later this afternoon. This little one needs another feeding and then I’ll set him up in front of a heater. Go on now, shoo.”

Ben gave her a small smile and obediently walked out the door, and she watched his back until she couldn’t see it any more.

* * *

Rey looks beautiful.

Ben thinks she looks beautiful every day, in her jeans and flannel and boots, hair messy and touched with straw, smelling like sheep and shit, dirt and the ocean breeze. In fact, that’s when she’s especially beautiful, because it’s when she's most real.

_Your real boss_, he reminds himself.

She’d hired him for the Spring semester internship. He’s helped her lamb and shear the sheep she cares for out here on the island. It’s just them and the farm and 100 sheep and countless birds along the shore, and it’s lonely but it’s a good kind of lonely. Because they’re together, and when Ben is with Rey he doesn’t feel alone; it’s the first time in his life when he hasn’t felt alone. But she’s his boss, and she’s at least ten years older than him, and she’s a widow, and he’s just a kid, really - barely twenty years old, a junior in college. He has nothing to offer her except his body (_to help care for the sheep_) and his desire (_his desire to learn to run a farm_) so that’s what he does for her. He maintains a vivid imagination, but he knows that’s all it is - dream and fantasy, things to be thought about late at night, but never acted upon, never lived.

Ben likes the way Rey looks when she’s with the sheep, but she's something else now, standing in the kitchen regarding her phone unhappily, clad in a red dress that barely reaches her knees, hair set in some kind of fancy updo and not just pulled back in a practical way, wearing makeup and earrings and high heels. She looks like something out of a dream; a princess, or maybe a fairy. She's beautiful, but she looks so sad. He’d trade the dress and make-up to see her smiling instead.

She has a date. She’d told him, on their way out of the barn, hot and happy and tired after finishing the shearing in one day instead of the scheduled two. The farm doesn’t have a huge number of sheep but Ben knows that Rey’s careful with her time and she’d mentioned that she thought she’d be spending more time instructing him than ended up being the case. But he’d grown up shearing sheep by hand on his grandparents’ farm, and it turns out the task is a bit like riding a bicycle; tough to learn, but easy to remember once you’ve done it. In any case, the most important part of shearing is getting the sheep to stay in the right position and it turns out that Ben - big and sturdy - is pretty good at that part. So they made good work of it, and the two of them sheared all 100 sheep in one day. They were headed inside together for showers and Ben was looking forward to their usual evening - dinner, sitting on the porch together and counting the stars, maybe a conversation if he’s lucky - but instead Rey announced as they walked back up to the house that she was going on a date.

“Yeah, just some friend of Finn's from DC, he thinks we'll get along,” she explained to Ben, shrugging slightly, not looking at him - looking at the ground, and her hands, and up in the sky where the sun was already getting low, but not at him. “It’s been a while, you know? I figure, time to jump back in that pool. Right?” And then she did look at him, up into his face, and her expression was uncertain, like a question, even though he didn’t think it was the question she asked him. But he nodded, and said “sure,” and watched her retreating back as she went to her room on the left side of the house - closing the door firmly behind her as usual - and he went right, to his room, to shower and change his clothes and maybe do some other things to help him relax and soothe his soul, and when he came out she was standing in the kitchen wearing that dress and looking like a goddess.

She smiles at him as he walks into the room, then glances at her phone again and relocates to the front hall while he pulls the ingredients for his dinner out of the fridge. Just a sandwich tonight, since it’s only him. Normally they cook together, spaghetti or tacos or hot dogs or whatever else Finn and Rose brought them from the grocery, but a turkey sandwich is fine too.

Ben putters around the kitchen, putting together his sandwich, watching Rey surreptitiously out of the corner of his eye. She’s standing in front of the door, a grey wrap tossed around her shoulders, and she’s still messing with her phone, frowning at it. He guesses that she’s arranged with Finn or Rose to come pick her up, to carry her to the mainland, and when they leave the shore she’ll make her way down to the dock to wait. Maybe they’ve already left and she’s biding her time; it’s pretty dark out there, and he wouldn’t blame her for waiting until the last minute. She’s been wary of going far from the house after sundown for the past couple of weeks, ever since Ember wandered away and Ben went out looking for her.

* * *

Ben had gone out to check on the sheep in the evening - it wasn’t a requirement, but he’d gotten into the habit. He liked going out to the sleepy sheep, enjoyed their warmth and their murmuring and shuffling, their scent. They were so undemanding. That evening it was raining, a nice early spring shower, but Ben went out anyway because he didn’t mind the rain. Rey, on the other hand, disliked the rain almost as much as she disliked the evening darkness, so she stayed inside, finishing up the dishes and calling goodbye as he headed out into the gathering darkness.

Ben went out to the barn, where they’d corralled the sheep before dinner, and it was immediately clear that Ember wasn’t there. He’d been reintroduced to the flock as soon as he was weaned - he and his sister were one of the earliest births, late February being quite early in the season - but he would sometimes come up to the house, asking to be let in. Ben’s first instinct was to walk around the house, shining the flashlight into the bushes and whistling for him, but he didn’t come. So he went farther, going in consecutive circles around the house, farther and farther out, whistling and calling for Ember. As the minutes passed the rain grew harder, and before long the shower had turned into a downpour, complete with thunder and even a bit of lightning, out over the ocean. Eventually it was too wet, and too dark, and Ben had to admit defeat.

By then he was crying, thinking of poor Ember out by himself, up in the pine woods or down by the beach, wondering if he’d be able to find him in the morning, and as he trudged towards the house he could see the warm light from inside, shining through the windows, and from the front door, which was wide open. Rey was there; she stood in the doorway, holding Ember in her arms. Ben was so relieved he let out a _whoop_ into the rain, and ran the rest of the way across the yard and up onto the front porch.

* * *

Rey was washing up the dinner dishes when Ben stuck his head in from the front hall. “I’m gonna go check on the sheep, make sure everything is okay. I’ll be back in a few.”

“Okay,” Rey tossed over her shoulder as she rinsed the last plate and set it on the rack. “I’ll be here.”

His response was the _snap_ of the front door closing. Once she turned off the tap the room was quiet, the only sounds her own shuffling and the light patter of rain against the window. She went to the living room and settled herself in the corner of the threadbare sofa, feet tucked up under her butt, and picked up the novel she’d been reading. Rose brought her stacks of used paperbacks every few weeks, romances and historical fiction and mystery novels. This one was Agatha Christie, _And Then There Were None_; she was about half-way through and had no idea who the murderer might be or how they were carrying the murders out - although she did figure that the answer might be that one of the people who were already dead had faked it somehow.

The story was so absorbing that she lost track of time until a crash of thunder broke through her reverie. She checked her phone - Ben had been outside 45 minutes, and it was storming. It shouldn’t have taken him that long to check on the sheep, and a flash of panic spiked in her stomach. Rey pushed it down and went to the front door to peek out the window. It was hard to see through the rain and darkness, but flashes of lightning off the coast illuminated the farm buildings and the flatland beyond. Ben was nowhere to be seen. She opened the door a crack and stepped onto the porch, keeping back to avoid getting sprayed by the rain which was being tossed around by the wind. Under the splash of the water she could hear a soft bleating, and when she looked over the edge of the porch there was Ember, shivering and crying, pressed against the lattice that lined the space around the bottom of the porch.

“Goddammit,” she muttered, and ran down to pick up the lamb, wet and wiggling. She ran back up to the porch and stood in the doorway, looked again out into the darkness, and it was too much. Ben was out there, wandering around in the rain, in the dark, probably looking for Ember. But he wouldn’t find Ember, because Ember was here with her. So he would go further out, and he would fall and hurt himself and she wouldn’t find him until morning, because it was dark and rainy and she had no idea where he was. He would end up just like Poe, and then she’d be alone again, just her and the island and the sheep, and she didn’t think she could live through that again.

The panic that Rey had pushed down earlier came back up with a howling intensity that would have knocked her over if it hadn’t frozen her where she stood. She clutched Ember to her chest just as Ben had done the night he was born, and he shivered and cried and she shivered and cried and she had no idea how long they were there, in the open doorway, shivering and crying into the storm before Ben ran up out of the gloom. And then, finally, she was warm.

* * *

His eyes had been on Ember, but when he raised them to look at Rey, expecting to see joy in her eyes, too, he was shocked to find her crying. Not just crying, but bawling, screaming into the stormy darkness. The lamb was clutched to her chest, her cheeks flushed and wet, tears running tracks down her face and dripping off her chin. Ben was momentarily frozen - he had issues dealing with his own emotions, let alone those of his boss, for whom he harbored improper affection. But he couldn’t leave her standing in the doorway. So he herded them all inside, closing the door tight behind them. He took Ember from her arms - he had apparently hidden well close to the house - and set him down in his straw-lined playpen, then he led Rey into the living room, where he’d sat with her on the sofa, her mystery novel resting open, face-down, on the arm. She clutched at him, and he allowed it, welcomed it; and after a minute he gave in to his instinct and pulled her into his lap; singing to her and rocking her like a lamb until she’d stopped crying.

* * *

Finn is late. The plan had been for her to meet them at the dock at 7pm, but it’s 7:03 already and he still hasn’t texted to say they’d left the shore. She sends another text and glances out the window by the front door. It’s dry out, which is good, and today was the warmest day so far - mid-May, it’s already heading into summer - so she should be comfortable enough even with her legs uncovered, with the wrap around her shoulders. She still feels silly, in this dress; she’s always been more comfortable in flannel and jeans, boots on her feet, straw in her hair, surrounded by animals rather than people. But she supposes it’s important to make a first impression.

While she waits for Finn to respond to her text she doesn’t wonder about her intended date - Skip or Scamp or something like that, she can’t bother to remember - she thinks about Ben. Always Ben. Ben at the breakfast table; Ben in the barn or on the beach; Ben striding up the lane with his adorably bow-legged gait; Ben with the newborn lamb, and Ben holding her tight after he’d come in from the rain two weeks before and found her hysterical. He’d been so kind, there was no reason for him to care for her the way he had that night. He could have called Finn and Rose to come over; he could have carried her to her room and left her to cry it out. But he hadn’t done either of those things; instead he’d held her, rocked her in his lap and stroked her hair and murmured words she couldn’t even remember. Soothing words, comforting. Then he’d sung the lullaby - Mirrorbright - and that had soothed her, too.

He’d been so large and warm and his arms had been strong and it had felt so good to sit on his lap, in his embrace. He’d been sopping wet from the rain, and he’d smelled like the island; like Poe. He was nothing like her late husband, though. Poe had been smaller than Ben, more compact, with a quick smile and a twinkle in his eye and he always knew exactly the right word for every occasion, while Ben was quiet, and serious; funny, but straight-faced. But the thing they had in common was that they both made Rey feel safe.

_I like to feel safe_, Rey thinks to herself, as she stands in the front hall and plays with her phone and listens to Ben make his sandwich in the kitchen.

When she’d finally calmed down that night, two weeks before, Rey hadn’t wanted to get up. She had rested her head on Ben's shoulder and toyed with the buttons on the front of his flannel shirt. He’d smelled like the rain, and the night, both of which she hated but part of her really liked them on him. Rey had been tired, so very tired. She’d thought about Poe going out into a storm looking for a lost lamb, and Ben doing the same, and contrasted the relief she'd felt when Ben had appeared around the sand dunes with the dread she felt when she’d awakened alone, when she’d set out in the dim predawn light to find the body of her husband, the love of her life. She had been so relieved to see Ben, and it confused her. And his wonderful warm arms; they confused her too. So she’d pushed herself up off his lap, thanked him (for what, she wasn't sure) and hurried back to her room, shutting the door tightly behind her, and she’d cried herself to sleep. She remembered dreaming of men, living and dead, searching for lost lambs in the rainy darkness.

* * *

Rey standing in the front hall, waiting to leave for her date, reminds Ben of the night two weeks before; when he’d gone out to check on the sheep and to look for Ember, only to come back to the house to find Rey sobbing, with the lamb clutched to her chest. He thought about it as he stacked slices of turkey and cheese and tomato and lettuce onto the thick white bread that they baked themselves in the old bread machine.

Rey had felt good in his arms. Acknowledging that felt creepy, but not acknowledging it felt worse. Ben had held her while she cried, and she’d cried for a long time. She'd said his name, over and over, and stroked his cheeks and gripped the front of his shirt, which was so wet that rivulets of water streamed out from between her knuckles, and she'd said over and over again “please don't leave me, don't ever leave me.” It had been the trauma talking, Ben knew that, but it had been nice to hear her say that she wanted him to stay. Nice… nice wasn’t exactly the word to describe it, but it had been something that wasn't bad. It hadn't lasted very long though; she'd stood up, very suddenly, thanked him, and then went to bed. The next morning had been just like every other morning, and in the two weeks since neither of them had mentioned it. If anything Rey had pulled away, talked to him even less than before, and now she's waiting in the front hall to go on a date while Ben makes a cold sandwich in his lazy jeans and t-shirt, bare feet slapping far too loudly against the linoleum.

He's cutting the sandwich into triangles when Rey shouts back that she's leaving. He hears the door open and close, and then he's alone. There is no reason for Ben to be upset that Rey is going on a date, she's done nothing to lead him to believe she feels anything for him beyond friendly regard, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t feel stung.

He pulls a bottle of IPA from the fridge before settling himself at the kitchen table. The table is round and small, made of brown wood, scars from years of use engraved across the top; there are four chairs around it but it's a close fit. It's just about perfect for two, though. Ben loves eating breakfast there with Rey before the sun even comes up, eggs and toast and hot bitter coffee, Rey's messy ponytail and eyes puffy from sleep. He loves watching her wake up, how she smiles at the window as the light outside shifts slowly from red to orange to pink, and finally the lightest blue, which usually happens just as they are letting the sheep out to roam.

But now he's alone, chewing his slightly dry turkey sandwich and washing it down with the too-bitter beer. He bites and chews and swallows slowly, barely tasting his dinner, wondering what he'll do during this rare time by himself. He could take a walk; since the thing two weeks ago he hasn't gone outside after dark, afraid of hurting Rey, but she's not here now so he can do it. He can do whatever he wants, but he finds himself just sitting there for long minutes after his meal is finished.

Eventually he stands up, drops the bottle into the recycling bin with a satisfying crash, washes his plate, and makes his way to the front hall to put on his boots. He's just pulling on his flannel jacket when the front door opens and Rey rushes in. Her cheeks are red and she's breathing hard, as though she's been running. She takes one look at him and freezes.

* * *

As Rey stands on the dock watching the approaching lights of Finn's boat, inhaling the scent of the tide, listening to the birds splashing in the surf and singing their good nights, she remembers the first time that Poe kissed her. It had been here, on the dock.

It had been in April, almost ten years ago exactly, and the night had been chilly but not cold. He'd packed a picnic - nothing fancy, just a couple of sandwiches and bottles of beer - and they'd sat on a blanket and laughed while they ate. They’d been silent as the sun set, just the sound of the surf and the birds while the brilliant orb slowly settled behind the line of the mainland, turning the sky over their heads a brilliant crimson fading finally to black.

"It's so beautiful," she'd breathed into the new darkness, "I could sit here forever."

He'd looked over at her, and she'd known she was attracted to him but hadn't known what to do about it - she was a kid, and he was her boss, and at least ten years older than her besides - but he'd looked at her and said, "You know what, Rey? Your forever is your life, and you only get one of those." And he'd leaned over and kissed her, very softly, like he was testing it out, and she'd liked it. They’d gone to bed in their own rooms that night - both doors shut tight - and they'd kissed again in the morning, and then they'd kissed some more, and three nights later Rey went to bed in Poe's room instead of her own.

This is what Rey is thinking about as she watches the lights from Finn's boat come closer and closer, and once it reaches the dock she is friendly to Finn's friend, says hello and shakes his hand, and then she apologizes profusely because she's suddenly feeling unwell and she needs to go back to the house. She ignores Finn's knowing smile as she turns around and runs, her phone's flashlight illuminating her way as she hurries carefully along the sandy path. She has an idea and she doesn't know if her idea is good or bad, only that it's what she has to do. Because she will only live once, and she wants to make it count.

Ben's in the front hall when she comes in. She’s sweaty and breathless and probably a mess but he's seen her worse; he's seen her covered with lamb piss and smelling of shit, and even then he looked at her like _that_, just like he's looking at her now. Like she's beautiful.

"Hey," she says, trying to sound cool and failing. She can feel the heat in her own cheeks even as a blush spreads across Ben's face, all the way to the tips of his ears, barely peeking up through his hair.

"Hey," he responds, looking slightly confused. "That was a quick date."

Rey barks out a laugh.

"No date, no," she toes off her pretty dress heels and flexes her toes. "I hate those things," she mumbles, before kicking them aside and gazing back up at him. "No date. I couldn't do it after all."

Ben looks at her for a moment, right into her eyes, and flexes his jaw. "Yeah, I can see not being ready. Everyone mourns in their own time, no reason to rush…"

"No," Rey interrupts him. "I'm ready, I'm _so_ ready."

She feels hysterical again, but in a good way, and she laughs and wraps her hands around his biceps. She can't read his expression at all, so she just plows forward.

"I don’t want to be with him, Ben. I'm ready to be with you."

* * *

Ben has no idea how to respond but that's okay because she keeps talking, more animatedly than he's ever seen her, eyes bright and face open.

"I only have one life, Ben, just the one. And you, also - one life. I want to kiss you, Ben. I want to kiss you, and I want to tell you everything, and I want you to tell me everything, too. Because I like you, I really like you, and I'm just so tired of being afraid." She pauses, and her eyebrows draw together, as though she's just realized what she's said and she's worried she's made a terrible mistake. She says just one more word. "Please."

"I was probably going to say yes anyway," Ben murmurs, his heart trembling in his chest like a butterfly as he steps forward to cradle her face in his hands, "but the _please_ was a nice touch."

She chuckles and rubs her cheek into his palm. He’s thrilled that his attempt at a joke made her laugh, and he’s even more thrilled when she grasps the front of his shirt in her fists and pulls him down to kiss him on the mouth. She tastes vaguely of toothpaste and also salty, like tears, and they stand together in the front hall and taste each other for a while.

But only for a while.

“I’m getting a crick in my neck,” she complains, eyes twinkling. “You’re too tall. Let’s sit down for a bit.”

Rey leads him to the sofa, where they sit together. They’ve sat together on the sofa many times before, but this time is different, because they’re touching each other. He can’t stop touching her - her hands, her face, her hair - no longer in her fancy up-do, but hanging down loose around her shoulders. He's never touched a woman before, and he likes it; he thinks he mostly likes it because it's Rey. The skin of her arms is smooth and warm, the curve of her body under her dress is delicious. Ben pulls her into his lap, but this time instead of crying she’s laughing, kissing him as much as he’s kissing her.

When they’re done kissing they talk. Rey tells him about her childhood; how her parents abandoned her when she was small; how she was raised in the foster care system; how she’d lived on a farm in high school and fell in love with the animals - the goats and chickens and cows but especially the sheep - and how she’d gotten a full scholarship to study Animal Science at Virginia Tech. Ben tells her more about his childhood, too; the good in addition to the bad. He tells her about his grandparents’ farm; the sheep and cows and chickens; about the goose who liked to chase them around the pond; and how the fireflies would dance in the trees late at night in the summer.

By the time the conversation makes way to comfortable silence it’s well past midnight and Ben’s eyes are getting heavy. Rey’s are, too. She pushes him upright and takes one of his hands in hers.

“I really like you, Ben,” she says, and laughs a sigh. “I guess that’s obvious.”

“You said it earlier,” he replies, stroking the back of her right hand with his thumb. “But yeah. Pretty obvious now. I like you, too.”

“Also obvious.”

Rey pauses, a heavy silence, before she speaks again. “This is awkward. Because you work for me.”

“Only for a couple more weeks,” he pleads, “then I won’t work for you any more. I guess I won’t work here at all after that.” The realization makes his heart hurt, and she squeezes his hand.

“You’re the best intern we’ve had in all the time I’ve been here, Ben. Much more proficient than I was, at your age. And I was hired on as assistant manager.”

“Only because you married the manager,” he said, then cringed when he realized how bad it sounded. But she took it well.

“That was certainly part of it. Nepotism can get you far, I guess.” She wasn’t smiling, but she didn’t sound angry. “I've been thinking about offering you the job for a while, but I didn’t, because of my personal feelings.”

“I can understand that. It’s complicated.”

“It is,” she assented. “In a way. But the part that’s simple is that I know I want you to stay. Even if this doesn’t work out.” She lifts their hands and gestures them between them, from her chest to his. “And it might not work out.”

“I want it to work.” Ben leans forward so he can press his forehead to hers. She hums, a happy sound, and presses back against him.

“I do too. But there’s a lot. There’s our age difference for one thing, and there’s my past.”

"Poe, you mean."

Rey squeezes his hand and sniffles. "Yeah. To you he might look like baggage, but to me... I don't want to forget him."

“You still love him, I know. You didn’t want to lose him.” Ben understands the complexity of letting the past die; he knows it's not as simple as flipping a switch, and he doesn't think it should be.

Rey sobs and Ben is embracing her again, holding her close, rocking her.

“Hey, Rey. It’s okay. You can love him and miss him and be with me at the same time. I don’t mind.”

Rey sniffles and pulls away to look into his face. Her expression is sad and hopeful, and it breaks his heart and fills it all at once. “I would like that very much. If you don’t mind.”

“I really don’t.”

Rey holds her hand out to him, and he takes it, gently, in his own. They stand up together, and Ben follows her across the living room, down the hallway past the kitchen, and into her bedroom.

She leaves the door open.

**Author's Note:**

> Ahch-To is based on [Hog Island](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hog_Island_\(Virginia\)), an island off the Eastern Shore of Virginia - the peninsula separated from the mainland by the Chesapeake Bay. As a barrier island - set between the ocean and the mainland and serving as a natural buffer against storms - it is flat, sandy, and surrounded by saltwater marsh. The first map below shows the location of the Eastern Shore relative to the rest of Virginia. (Near the western edge of the map is Roanoke. Blacksburg, where Virginia Tech is located, is just off the map, southwest of Roanoke) The second map is a closer view of Hog Island. The third map shows the location of the abandoned town of Broadwater, which is where I imagine the farm is located in our story.
> 
>   
  

> 
> I decided to set this story on a barrier island sheep farm after learning about the Livestock Conservancy's [Shave 'Em to Save 'Em](https://livestockconservancy.org/index.php/involved/internal/SE2) initiative. According to the website, the initiative serves to "recognize fiber artists for using wool from breeds on our Conservation Priority List while connecting shepherds of heritage breeds with customers." If you make yarn or other wool textiles, you can sign up to receive some amount of wool directly from a farmer, and then you're responsible for cleaning it, making it into yarn, and then creating something with it (or sharing it with someone who will). 
> 
> One of the breeds of sheep on the list is the Hog Island, which is descended from English sheep that were imported to the island in the 1700s. In this story they are described as native; in reality they were an invasive species and were removed from the island because they were causing damage to the natural ecology.
> 
>   
  

> 
> I was entranced by the story of Hog Island. The residents deserted it in the 1940s, following a series of particularly damaging storms that caused heavy erosion (erosion that continues to this day). The sheep were left to their own devices, until the Nature Conservancy purchased the island in 1974; all the sheep were removed by the end of 1978. A small number of them were taken to Virginia Tech for study, and eventually the various flocks were distributed to heritage sites across the commonwealth, where they are still maintained. Unlike Ahch-To in the story, Hog Island is now completely uninhabited, and although people are allowed to visit the island they must remain on the beach, and they can only visit during daylight hours so they don't disturb the birds. Poe and Ben would never wander around at night, lest they accidentally step on nests.
> 
> Both [Hog Island Sheep](https://livestockconservancy.org/index.php/heritage/internal/hog-island) and [Santa Cruz Sheep](https://livestockconservancy.org/index.php/heritage/internal/santa-cruz) are designated "critical" on the [Livestock Conservancy's Conservation Priority List](https://livestockconservancy.org/index.php/heritage/internal/conservation-priority-list#Sheep), which means "Fewer than 200 annual registrations in the United States and estimated global population less than 2,000." Ben mentions that his grandparents raised Shetlands, which are "Recovering" on the List. Shetlands in North America are descended from the native sheep of the Shetland Islands of Scotland. I based the Ahch-To sheep on the Hog Island breed. [Here is a public Facebook album](https://www.facebook.com/MargRadc/media_set?set=a.10157237608794197&type=3) by [Margaret Radcliffe](https://www.amazon.com/Margaret-Radcliffe/e/B001JP491G%3Fref=dbs_a_mng_rwt_scns_share) illustrating the process she went through to turn Hog Island wool into yarn.
> 
> [Here](https://youtu.be/zepaKy4oPvE) is a little video of scenes on the island; [here](https://youtu.be/xM4d_mdK0P4) is one about the status of the barrier islands today.
> 
> Rey graduated from and Ben attends the [Virginia Tech College of Agriculture and Life Sciences](https://www.cals.vt.edu/).
> 
> If you're ever in Nassawadox, VA, stop by [The Great Machipongo Clam Shack](https://www.greatclams.com/), I have it on good authority that it's not to be missed!


End file.
